It Shouldn't Matter Whether or Not You "Like" Hillary Clinton

Hillary Clinton's campaign is about to enter a new phase, her top aides and strategists explained to the *New York Times' *Amy Chozick over the weekend. The campaign, they proffered, is changing tack, seeking to show more of Clinton's "humor" and "heart." In what may be among the most ironic plans ever put forth by a politician, her staff aims to, as Chozick explained, "bring spontaneity to a candidacy that sometimes seems wooden and overly cautious." And perhaps most important, they're attempting to counter the "likability problem" that has haunted Clinton in the past months—and in earlier elections.

The details the campaign put forth varied from small language alterations (Clinton will no longer be using the phrase everyday Americans as it proved too "confusing" for said everyday Americans) to big contributions from her family (President Bill Clinton will join the campaign tour at his first major event, a fund-raiser, in mid-September). But ultimately, at the crux of the changes lies Clinton's need to give off a more authentic vibe; in other words, her team wants the American public to simply like her more than they currently do.

And so we return, yet again, to the question of just how much voters like Clinton and just how much that matters, an issue that has dogged the former first lady, senator, and secretary of state for nearly a decade. Throughout the 2008 primary season, as Clinton competed against the charismatic and oratorically gifted Obama, she was often cast as the less personable candidate, "cold" and "remote" according to Iowa voters, and a "Sybil" who is "paying a fortune to buy the secrets of likability" according to New York Times columnist Maureen Dowd. Clinton embarked on a similar "likability tour" during that election, with her elementary school best friend giving speeches about Clinton's sixth-grade flirting style. Things culminated at a New Hampshire debate where the moderator explained that while voters found Clinton to be the most experienced and most electable candidate, she suffered from a "likability issue." To laughs, Clinton deadpanned, "Well, that hurts my feelings." Then-candidate Obama backhandedly responded that Clinton was "likable enough."

Eight years later we're still having this debate. And now the Democratic front-runner, while also embroiled in a serious controversy over her use of a private email server while secretary of state, has found herself spending energy to establish a softer, sunnier, more lighthearted and open candidacy. (Meanwhile, in a moment that was eerily similar to Clinton's in New Hampshire, Republican hopeful Carly Fiorina was directly questioned about her own "popularity" at this year's first Republican debate.) And the cold, hard truth is that this debate about the importance of likability is inextricably tied to gender. Data shows that likability plays a huge part in whether or not voters will pull the lever for female candidates. According to studies conducted by the Barbara Lee Foundation, which advances women's representation in politics, voters "are perfectly willing to vote for a male executive they think is qualified but do not like"; however, "they will not vote for a woman they find unlikable even if she is qualified." Likability trumps qualifications for women—but not for their male counterparts.

To be fair, likability is a major consideration in every candidate's campaign plans. During the 2004 presidential election between John Kerry and George W. Bush, the question "Who would you rather have beer with?" was so dissected that it eventually led to a hilarious article from The Onion titled "Long Awaited Beer With Bush Really Awkward, Voter Reports." But the types of changes that Clinton's campaign is currently making are a testimony to the bizarre, deeply contradictory standards that we hold female candidates to.

The fact is, we evaluate Hillary Clinton—and every female candidate—on what she wears, on whether she cries, on what type of mother and grandmother she is, on how often she reaches out and touches voters, and on whether or not she smiles at the right moments. Where we see seriousness in a male candidate, we see stoniness in a female one. Where we see compassion in a male candidate, we see weakness in a female one. Where we see strength in a male candidate, we see undue aggression in a female one. And all of this means that despite now having reached the highest echelons of power and prestige in America, a female candidate is still looked upon as the Other, a creature of the heart and not of the mind. Despite her current place in the polls, Hillary Clinton is at a distinct perceptive disadvantage. And it sets an ugly precedent that, merely because she is a woman, Clinton must steer some of her energy away from campaigning about policy and toward the eternally vexing question of how to force others to like you. As any middle-school loner can tell you, it's a nearly impossible task.

Even more galling is the fact that a candidate with Clinton's credentials—a Yale law graduate; the first female law partner at Rose Law Firm; a U.S. senator with eight years of experience; the secretary of state during four years of war—and a candidate with a dossier of international contacts a mile long, substantial policy initiatives, and more speaking and law-making credentials than most world leaders can speak of—should need to show that she can joke about the color of her hair, while the leading Republican candidate is a man who repeatedly and unapologetically berates, belittles, and insults women and men of all ages, races, and creeds. Where Donald Trump continues to climb in the polls despite, and possibly because of, his unrelentingly abrasive personality, Clinton is forced to soften her persona to better appease the masses.

This is a debate we're sure to have a thousand times before the 2016 election is put to bed, but it's worth saying right now: You don't need to like Hillary Clinton. Period. You need to believe that she can handle the economic, security, and social challenges our nation faces. You need to agree that her vision for our future matches your own. If you don't, then by all means, cast your vote in favor of a candidate whose policies and beliefs align with yours. But don't vote for Clinton because she demurely smiles at the right moments or gushes appropriately about her grandbaby. That idea is old and it's tired, and it's only holding women back.

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